


The Snake Prince

by LTRisBACK



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley scares a customer, Fairy Tale Elements, Frog Prince AU, Human Aziraphale, M/M, Snake Crowley, bookshop owner Aziraphale, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like Crowley, snake in the bookshop, stuck as a snake Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LTRisBACK/pseuds/LTRisBACK
Summary: Bookshop owner Aziraphale Fell likes to walk in St James's Park whenever he can.  One day, he meets someone rather unusual hanging around his favourite tree.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 139





	The Snake Prince

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fault of the Ace Omens Discord, where this concept came up as a ridiculous one, and I took it and ran with it. Thanks for inspiring me guys!

Aziraphale walked through the park alone just as he did every Saturday, and most weekdays, really. He loved St James’s Park, loved everything about it from all the other people, the different water fowl (particularly the ducks) and all of the amazing plant life. He stood under his favourite tree and licked his icecream, watching two children chasing each other across the lawn. He leant back against the trunk, only to jump forward, startled. 

“Hey, watch out,” the tree hissed. When Aziraphale looked more closely he saw the enormous black snake that was wrapped around the tree. “Well, hello,” the snake turned its head, giving the impression of really looking at Aziraphale for the first time. 

Aziraphale blinked, then smiled. “Hello, my dear. I’m Aziraphale, what is your name?” 

“Name’s Crowley,” the snake replied after a moment, now studying Aziraphale more seriously. “You know, this is usually the point where people run away screaming.” 

“I’m not most people,” Aziraphale shrugged. “It’s very nice to meet you.” 

Crowley’s tongue flickered out, tasting the air around Aziraphale. “Nisssse to meet you, too,” he hissed. 

“So, what are you doing here? I’m pretty sure that enormous, talking snakes are not native to London.” 

“I was enjoying the sunshine,” Crowley glanced skyward, where the clouds had gotten thick, dark and threatening in the last half hour. “Now, not so much.” 

Aziraphale looked from the snake to the sky. “If you come over here, you can get under my umbrella,” he offered, opening said object over his head and holding one arm out towards Crowley. Crowley considered him carefully, then slowly extended his head until he was touching Aziraphale’s arm. Gauging the man’s reaction, Crowley inched himself forward until he was draped right across those broad shoulders, then continued to move until he was draped around him in multiple loops. He gave a happy hiss, enjoying the heat that was now everywhere under his coils. It felt even better than sunshine, and he gave the tiniest squeeze. 

“There you go my dear,” Aziraphale ran a finger along a stretch of scales. “It’s getting quite cold out here, how would you like to come back to my shop with me? I mean, you don’t have to stay or anything, but it would be warmer than being out here.” 

Crowley thought for a moment, then gave a rippling movement like a shrug. “Sssssure, why not.” 

“Alright then,” Aziraphale started to walk, finding the sensation of being wrapped in multiple coils of snake both rather odd and quite enjoyable. 

He made his way back to the bookshop, enjoying Crowley’s acerbic comments on the reactions to people when they actually saw what was draped over the blonde man. 

When they reached the corner where the bookshop stood Aziraphale unlocked the door, Crowley raised his head, scenting the air. “Bookssss?” he asked, and Aziraphale smiled broadly. 

“I collect antique books. I sell second hand books. That creates some confusion among people who think I should be willing to sell them antique books,” he explained as he let them both into the shop. 

~~~@@@~~~

A week later, Aziraphale carefully hung a large heat lamp over the couch in the back of the bookshop. There was, of course, a lamp in the terrarium that they had agreed upon to keep the higher-humidity environment away from the books, but Aziraphale wanted Crowley to have options, not just be stuck in the tank if he was cold. 

Crowley watched him work, tongue flicking out lazily to taste the air, somehow seeming to convey absolute contentment with nothing more than his body language. 

Aziraphale gave the finally push and threaded the cord over the beam, then caught it as it dropped back down towards him. He plugged it in, and showed Crowley the large, soft touch switch he’d rigged to allow the snake to turn it on and off himself. 

The tank took up the entire back wall of the shop, with a number of large branches and rocks, and a pool large enough for the snake to actually take a full dip in. Then there were the various ladders and planks attached to the bookshelves, allowing the snake to travel around the bookshelves. 

~~~@@@~~~

Aziraphale had not been this happy in a long time. The company was marvellous. Crowley was an excellent conversationalist, witty, sarcastic and hilarious. He was also a very good listener, draping himself over Aziraphale and listening to him blather on about whatever for as long as he wanted. They went for long walks together, Crowley draped around Aziraphale and occasionally winding his way down to slither over and investigate something. 

They were in the bookshop, during one of Aziraphale’s sporadic periods of actually opening the shop, and the blonde was clearly regretting his decision. The man who had come in did not want to take no for an answer when it came to one of Aziraphale’s prized first edition Oscar Wildes and the shop owner was rapidly running out of patience. 

“The book you wish to buy is in my private collection, which is why it is behind the rope,” he bit out. “It is not for sale, not for any price. The books on this side of the rope are for sale, as most people who come in here seem to be able to understand.” 

The man was clearly drawing himself up to say something else when Aziraphale felt something touch his waist. No, not something. With a rush, Crowley ascended his body, ending with his head suspended above Aziraphale’s shoulder, glaring at the man. He hissed, sounding exactly as pissed off as Aziraphale felt. The human blanched, flinching backwards, then turned and bolted from the shop without a backwards glance. 

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale raised one hand to stroke Crowley’s neck. “I do appreciate the assistance. And he was dreadfully rude, he definitely deserved it.” He leant his head to the side and gently bumped it against Crowley’s, who rubbed their cheeks together for a moment before settling down with his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

~~~@@@~~~

Months later, Crowley watched Aziraphale reach for something on the highest shelf in the built-in unit in the apartment upstairs. Gauging the amount by which he was missing the shelf, the snake hissed softly. This might all go horribly wrong at this point. He wasn’t even sure Aziraphale would want him around any more, but he couldn’t keep it to himself any more. 

“Ummmm, you know...if you kissed me, I could reach that for you,” he offered, coming at the point obliquely. 

Aziraphale turned from the shelves and looked at Crowley, head cocked to one side. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Well, you realise I’m not an ordinary snake, right?” Crowley’s tongue flickered quickly, his body writhing and giving away his nerves. “‘m not really a snake at all,” he finally admitted. “Not really. Just...been stuck as one, for a while. If you kiss me…”

“You’ll become human?” Aziraphale knelt down in front of Crowley, staring into his eyes. 

“Yes,” Crowley nodded his head in confirmation. 

“And that’s what you want?” Aziraphale asked, seriously. “Because I love you, my dear, exactly as you are. Is this what you want, Crowley?” 

“You...you love me?” the whispered words and dilated pupils that accompanied Crowley’s complete and utter stillness betrayed his emotions. “Yes, this is what I want.” 

“Well, then. All you ever had to do was ask,” Aziraphale leant forward and pressed his lips to Crowley’s, feeling the faint flick of snake tongue just before he made contact. Moments later, the lips under his were soft and giving. He pulled back to find himself looking into the a very familiar pair of golden eyes, still with slit pupils, set in an incredibly handsome face. 

Crowley was sprawled on his stomach, upper body propped up on his arms to be face to face with Aziraphale, and he smiled. Aziraphale stood and reached a hand down to help him to his feet, which ended up being a good thing as he swayed violently once on his feet. Glancing down, Aziraphale saw he was dressed in black - pants, shirt, jacket. 

“Hi,” Aziraphale whispered, nervous, as they held each other’s forearms tightly. 

“Hi,” Crowley smiled slightly, gently. Aziraphale gave a soft chuckle, then found himself with his arms full of lanky human as Crowley’s legs gave out on him. 

~~~@@@~~~

Aziraphale smiled as he watched Crowley sway his way across the bookshop. He wasn’t unchanged by his time (several years, as far as Aziraphale could ascertain, Crowley wasn’t telling) as a snake. The black scales on his feet, the colour and slit pupils of his eyes (which fortunately did not affect his eyesight the way is usually would for a human) were the most obvious signs. 

Aziraphale came up behind Crowley now, leant around and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Crowley jumped, squeaking in surprise, and fell to the floor in a pile of coils. 

“Assssssiraphale,” he whined, raising his head out of his coils. “Really?” 

Aziraphale bent over and kissed the top of his head. “Something, my dear?” 

“I love you, you bastard,” Crowley muttered, then slithered off to rest under his heat lamp, relieving the ache that had built in his back from the way his hips weren’t jointed quite right any more. 

“And I love you too, you silly serpent,” Aziraphale called after him, before turning to open the shop door.


End file.
